


got your bible, got your gun

by wesoftandfluffy



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Kate doesn't like to be touched, Multi, Richie is Richie, Will add more tags as I go, no supernatural, seth is tough until he's soft, until she meets the Gecko brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesoftandfluffy/pseuds/wesoftandfluffy
Summary: Kate Fuller doesn't like to be touched. Not when her mom died, not when her brother joins a gang, not when her dad starts acting guilty and invites two brothers to stay with them.And then her house stops feeling so big, the sun not nearly as hot as the way she feels when Richie watches her play the piano or when Seth picks her up from school. She learns that being touched isn't really so bad after all.Or, the Gecko brothers come to stay and Kate Fuller stops being the nice pastor's daughter.-----Inspired by the movie Stoker. Title from Lana Del Ray's 'Cruel World.'
Relationships: Kate Fuller/Richard Gecko, Kate Fuller/Richard Gecko/Seth Gecko, Kate Fuller/Seth Gecko
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	got your bible, got your gun

Kate Fuller doesn’t like to be touched. 

It didn’t matter what was happening, to be touched felt  _ wrong _ . Her father patting her shoulder, someone bumping into her in the school hallways - it made her skin feel like it would blister and bleed. It made no difference that her mother had just died. 

‘Kate, would you like to say a few words?’ Her father, Jacob, asked her. Kate didn’t. She would rather sit there in silence, say her own prayers and look over the heads of the other funeral guests to where two men were standing atop a mausoleum. 

‘Katie-Cakes?’ Jacob tried again. 

Kate mentally shook herself, pulled on her mask of Nice Kate Fuller, pastor’s daughter. She smiled wide, the kind of smile that Scott said looks like it belongs on a plastic doll. 

‘Sorry daddy, I’m not feeling too good.’ 

She wasn’t lying; inside, she felt hollow, empty; outside, her skin was too hot from the sun that was hanging high over their heads. Sweat was pooling under her arms and across her hairline. 

Jacob nodded, tried Scott instead. And when her brother got up and began to speak about how kind their mother was, how vibrant, Kate looked back over at the men in black and pretended she was with them, watching over the cemetery like grim reapers. 

Even though it was hot outside, Kate’s house was cold. As she walked through the rooms, hearing her steps echo through a house that had been too big even when they were four instead of three, she wondered if her mother’s body felt the same. If her mother’s arms feel cool against the silk that lines her coffin, like how Kate’s arms felt cool against the silk sleeves of her dress. 

Kate stopped wandering as soon as the guests arrived. For the first hour, she kept to the kitchen, helped Mrs. Garrick set up platters of food that were taken out by other hired staff. Her daddy didn’t check on her, but Scott did. 

‘Can I have one of those?’ He asked, nodding to the bowl of boiled eggs Kate had peeled, then chopped, then seasoned. 

She nodded, picked one up, dropped it in Scott’s mouth when he crouched low. 

‘Dad’s looking for you,’ Scott said after he finished eating. 

‘Sure he is.’ 

‘He will soon.’ 

Instead of replying, Kate flicked a piece of eggshell at her brother’s head and laughed when he pretended he had been shot. 

It was then that the doorbell rang. 

Kate had heard the bell many times, of course. She was eighteen and had lived in their too-big house all her life. But today nobody was supposed to ring it - the invitation had said to just walk in. 

So who was ringing the bell?

Kate listened close, something she had always been good at. She heard muttered conversations about the food, the weather, the daughter that had yet to show her face. Beyond them all, at the front door, Kate heard the muffled voice of her father. Her father who was welcoming someone in, telling them to make themselves at home. 

And then, ‘Kate!’ 

And, ‘Scott, go get your sister, please.’ 

And then Scott was walking back into the kitchen, his brow knitted in confusion. 

‘Who’s there?’ Kate asked. 

Scott shook his head. ‘Two guys, I don’t know. Kind of look like brothers.’ 

And Kate realised that she knew who they were before she saw them. 


End file.
